The heart of a Mother

The anguish of nine months,        

The days of hard labor,

The groaning of a mother,

 Like the war of Armageddon, 

A suffering woman, 

An obstinate foetus. 

The breast is aching, 

The baby cries for more,

 See the red nipple, 

They stretch in their baby gro, 

As they bite and suck. 

They hate baby sitting, 

The baby bouncers and walkers are useless, 

As they always look forward to breaking their  mother's spine. 

More terror,

 As they grow in the habit of deafening crys, 

The father is fast asleep,

 But, the mother dares not.

 They become uncomfortable, 

The mother is observant, 

As the excrement suffocates with it horrible smell,

 The baby smiles again, 

As they love to be clean, 

A lifeblood she is. 

The spine are on sabbatical,

As they learn to move,

 The metacarpals assumes the pain, 

Their clothes are always dirty, 

Crawling down the plains of kilimonjaro, 

Never minding the obstacles on the way. 

Moo Mi! Moo Mi! 

The first word stammers out,

 Behold the happy woman, 

At last, my labor is not futile,

 But the race of motherhood is everlasting. 

The baby of yesterday,

 Now, full of strength, 

Full of dreams and aspirations, 

The future of his immediate nation, 

The parents are expectant, 

waiting for that day.

 Just in one night, 

The future was kidnapped, 

The dream was abducted, 

Mothers are protesting,

 Where is our strength? 

They were left to fight the battle, 

No Savior, No sense of seriousness, 

The heartless remained heartless, 

But, it is definite, 

That the end will come

And, mothers will smile again.


 Dedicated to mothers in the world and especially to the mothers of the abducted chibok girls